


Tales of Engagement - Their First Bed

by Witherstone



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Engagement, F/M, Love Potion/Spell, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:01:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28921752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witherstone/pseuds/Witherstone
Summary: S4, set during "Something Blue". With Giles napping on the couch, something was bound to happen. Oneshot.Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Relationships: Spike/Buffy Summers
Kudos: 16





	Tales of Engagement - Their First Bed

The reality of marrying Spike was so obvious, Buffy couldn't understand why it didn't register with her before. They both felt passionate about each other for a long time now, every confrontation bursting with sexual tension, leaving them tingling inside. The way he touched her when she was sitting in his lap, hands gliding over her waist, hips, thighs, sneaking under her blouse to caress her skin... it stopped her breath as she tried to focus on their wedding invitations. It felt so good it couldn't be completely wrong, and when she sensed a low growl of desire in his chest as they kissed, she knew it was mutual.

Giles fell asleep on the couch, a white cloth covering his eyes. They both listened for a moment and as they heard soft snoring, Spike raised an eyebrow at her, a smug smirk suggesting what they both wanted could happen right now. Her eyes widened at how bold he was, how naughty it would be, but when he stood up with her in his arms and led her upstairs, she followed without a word.

"The guestroom?", she whispered, thinking of the narrow mattress of the sofa bed. Spike shook his head and kissed her in the dark corridor, slowly urging her toward Giles' private quarters. "Better."

"No way!", she whisper-yelled, stopping his hand from opening the door. "We can't!"

Spike raised his arm up and started kissing her hand, still gripped around his wrist. He looked straight into her eyes, sucking on her pinky, then biting it lightly, and she traced his lower lip with it, resolve shrinking.

"You'll like it", he muttered, stepping closer. "I'll make sure you do." He put her hand over his neck and easily lifted her up, causing a surprised squeal. He swung her around, then opened the master bedroom door and carried her through the threshold bridal-style, carefully placing her on Giles' queen-sized bed. It was all classical and old-looking, from the antique wooden frame down to the crimson satin sheets.

Spike leaned over and started to kiss her, then suddenly pulled away to lock the door behind them. She couldn't wait and went after him, pressed him against the tough wood, hinges rattling sharply. He took her in, fully, hands in her hair, then traveling down under her black top, unhooking her bra in one smooth motion, tugging on her pants and grabbing her ass. She pushed his red shirt from his shoulders and he shook it off impatiently, unwilling to break contact with her.

It was hasty and stupid, but he felt too good next to her and her mind went foggy, pushing the consequences to be dealt with later. It was like he knew her body already when they were shedding their clothes, cool hands expertly handling her breasts, undressing her in a rush, his own need clearly visible through his pants. They fell back on the bed, making it creak, and she unhooked his belt feverishly, letting her hunger take over.

"I want to feel you", she exclaimed, shocked with her own audacity. He smiled at her, putting his hand in her panties, stroking her gently and watching her face twist as she felt his fingers inside her, quickening her breath.

"I need to feel you first", he spoke in a low voice, making her squirm under him. "Do you like it?", he asked, and she just whimpered in response. He drew closer to her, licking her neck, feeling her pulse. "Tell me", he urged, rubbing her clit, keeping her on edge.

She hid her face in the crook of his neck, aroused beyond words, stunned at what was happening with her. "It feels like flames", she panted, unable to face him, grabbing at his chest, beyond help. "Make me come, Spike, please, I need to come. It burns." She felt his jaw tighten at her words and he knelt before her on the bed, ripping her panties off, holding her legs apart. She whelped as he licked her moist folds, prolonging her torture when she was almost there, trying to clench her legs and feeling him press down on her thighs with crude force. He brought her over the edge and didn't let go when she wailed into the pillows, feeling her body arch, with him between her legs, keeping her down for the hell ride until she calmed down, lightly trembling with aftershocks. He smoothly pushed himself up, sliding between her legs, his erection pressed to her groin, pending release.

"Mine", he growled possessively, kissing her flushed face, breathing in her intoxicating scent. "Tell me you're mine. Tell me it's just for me, you're so wonderfully wet just for me." They kissed and he licked small drops of sweat off her upper lip, every move seductive, waiting for her to open her eyes.

She came down from the rush wave, reaching down and stroking him slowly, getting to know his size and girth. "I'm yours", she whispered, feeling how dirty the words were, but loving it nonetheless. "And you're mine." She observed his face, noted reactions to what she did, repeated what he seemed to enjoy most. It was so incredibly intimate as he was letting her take control, explore on her own; she was much less experienced but he didn't mind, ecstatic that she was touching him, responding to her delicate hands, grabbing her hair and burying his face in it.

"Yours", she gasped, grabbing his arm and turning their bodies so that she was on top, panting, reckless. She moved her hips and took his member between her thighs, rubbing it against her clit, wetting it with her juices, teasing the entrance.

Spike whimpered, already lost in the sensation but craving more. He grabbed her thighs, pressing fingers in deeply, so tight it would leave dark bruises were she not the Slayer. He watched her breasts bounce as she played with him, toyed with his body, placed her hands on his flat stomach, teasing.

"Let me in, love", he pleaded, catching her eyes. "I need you, Buffy, I need to be inside you. So beautiful... Love, I want to feel you all."

She leaned over him, blonde curls touching his face, blocking the outside world until all he could see was her face.

"How much do you want it?", she whispered and he scowled, catching her by the small of her neck, pressing her lips against him, kissing her senseless, hard enough to draw blood. She held his cheek, neck, collarbone, mind blank, fiercely kissing him back, reduced to primal energies as she lowered herself onto him, let him enter slowly, barely controlling the rhythm. He held her head down until he was fully inside her, his mouth swallowing her moans, then released her to hear them out loud as she moved on top of him, a picture of perfection.

"Spike...", she whispered, biting her lips, shutting her eyes as she leaned back, supporting herself on his legs. "God, it feels so good. You feel so good." She moved back to him and he caught her by the wrists, steadied her as he pulled himself up to a sitting position and held her, not breaking their contact. "You're mine, always mine", he replied, kissing her neck, picking up the pace. "Look at me", he added and she opened her eyes, glazed and filled with lust. "I am", she smiled mischievously, then kissed him again and put her hand between them, touching herself. His eyes flashed and he bowed down to suck on her breasts, lick her nipples until she whimpered, words stranded as he fucked her fast, feeling his own climax approaching.

"Ye-eees... Please... I'm close", she uttered weakly, then felt a wave of pleasure, his tongue on her skin, strong thrusts filling her entirely, the sensation taking her over the edge again. She dug her nails into his shoulder, overwhelmed, surely breaking skin. Her hips worked on their own accord, buckling in a crazy speed, her internal muscles clenching him tightly, and Spike groaned into her chest, arms wrapped around her, then let out a guttural, wild growl as he came, for a moment suspended in a different dimension. He came down slowly, breathing deeply and still rocking with Buffy sitting on top of him, both of them tired, but hungry for more.

"My Slayer... Buffy... you're amazing, love", he admitted, stroking her back. He slid out of her and laid down, pulling her with him; she didn't let go, laying beside him, cuddling to his chest.

"I've never felt it this way", she confessed after a while, embarrassed at her own vulnerability. Spike swooped the hair out of her face and put his fingers under her chin, making her look into his eyes.

"I'll always make you feel this way", he murmured, still hazy, drugged with her scent. "Whenever you want. Better than", he drew closer and captured her lips in one of those kisses that felt like ice and fire at once, so powerful she was glad to be laying down.

The outside world suddenly made its return as they parted, Giles breaking more glasses downstairs. Buffy giggled.

"We should go before he suspects something", she urged, drawing circles on his pale skin and not moving an inch.

"Let him know", Spike's hand was on her hip, grazing it lightly. "We'll be married soon anyway."

"Yes, but it's not right", she wrinkled her nose and raised herself on her elbow. "This isn't even our bed."

"Our bed?" He gave her a smug look. "Kitten, this _is_ our first bed."

* * *

Everyone fell silent on the way back from the graveyard, reminiscing on the effects of Willow's distorted spell. Spike walked in front of Buffy and she kept pushing him forward sharply. When they reached Giles' house, she threw him over the threshold and he caught her eyes, furious and humiliated.

As far as he could tell, the other Scoobies weren't aware of their close encounter. Some public kissing and hand-holding could be forgiven apparently; he doubted they would let him stay here, knowing how they almost broke Giles' bed, acting on cravings they didn't suspect existed.

He told the Slayer she was amazing, he told her he wanted her. Which was true, but besides the point. It felt... strange, in a good, satisfying way. The scratches she made on his back were healing fast and would soon disappear, but the vivid memory could never fade. The breathtaking sight of the petite, gorgeous blonde, so close to him, so hot. Buffy with the iron moral compass, Buffy "It's Wrong" Summers, whispering she's his while riding him so hard...

He kept staring at her across the living room, suddenly obsessed with catching her eyes again, making sure she was thinking about him, torturing herself, desperately denying her attraction to him. She was purposefully avoiding him and it almost gave him the answer. The final confirmation came when she was tieing him back to the chair and he made a soft noise, a barely audible whimper she could only recognize from when she straddled him upstairs. She froze for a fraction of a second and he heard her heart skip a beat. She recovered quickly, but he knew he was in her system now, she was there with him.

He nailed a Slayer and she begged him to give it to her. He doubted killing her could feel better than that.

* * *

Later that night, Giles briefly wondered why were his bedsheets, washed the day before, already changed to new, pristine ones, but dismissed the thought as he fell asleep.

* * *

Two months later, it was a date night for Riley and Buffy. They finished slaying a small herd of demons on the outskirts of the city and he drove them back to the campus. She wasn't really tired and he pretended not to be, the fight leaving him slightly battered, but her eager eyes awakened his desire. They were just getting to know each other, all sensations new and fresh, but she could tell he was an attentive lover, taking time to make her feel cherished and special.

They ended up in his dorm room again, enveloped by crimson sheets on his bed, an accent light drawing long shadows over their naked bodies. Buffy grabbed the covers tightly when Riley entered her, towering over her small form, strong, passionate. She suddenly remembered that Giles had the very same sheets, then asked herself how would she know that, puzzled.

She urged herself to come back to Riley, to his bed, his smell and slow, delightful thrusts. She arched her back to him and he held her hips up, softly moaning as he reached deeper into her. She touched his muscular arm, watching his face through half-closed eyes, when a flashback with red sheets appeared in her head.

 _"Tell me you're mine."_ Why was she hearing that now?

 _"My Slayer."_ Pale hands holding her with force on the verge of pain, but so fierce she sobbed for more. Her senses on edge, picking up on his demon, exciting, her body trembling with suffocating shallow breaths, then screams of release. A tug on her hair, it felt almost like they were fighting, and-

 _"Mine."_ His deep, possessive voice, filled with such a need, such hunger...

"Buffy?" She snapped out of the memory, Riley leaning over her, his voice strained with worry. She realized she was clenching her teeth and clutching his bicep way too strongly, leaving marks on his tanned skin. She let go of him immediately, mortified.

"I'm sorry", she whispered, putting her hand down. How could she think about that, especially at this moment? It felt like cheating, so very wrong, and it made her feel awful inside. And now she hurt him with her absurd strength, and he was kind enough to smile down on her and kiss her.

"I just want you so badly", she added as he resumed his moves, caressing her jaw. "I want to feel you in me, so good, it makes me so-"

He cut her off with a kiss and didn't respond. She shut her eyes, a sharp cry caught in her throat. She just tried slutting it up, failed, and was now tense and embarrassed.

Why did she do it? She didn't like it rough, never had. It reminded her of slaying, violence, things she experienced on a daily basis and needed an escape from. She loved Riley, melted under his touch; she didn't want to be reduced to that primitive instinct of crude, vulgar coupling, whispering disgusting obscenities to each other, keeping eye contact as they came... _no matter how hot it felt_.

Did he break her? Was she broken now, perverted by what she did with Spike? How could she feel love and lust so strongly back then, under a botched spell, with a soulless vampire? It was degrading. They basically abused each other in an uncontrolled outburst of _the most intense sex she ever had_.

She yearned to feel this way with Riley, let go completely, wild and untamed, but she could already see dark spots appear on his arm, felt the strain the last fight put on him, reminding her to hold back, to be careful. When she flipped him on his back, she did it so he could relax his pained muscles, and it didn't feel like a twisted, savage battle for control. It felt completely different, sweet and safe, and she swallowed the guilt for wishing for something more.


End file.
